WordPress asks “Who would you least like to be stuck in an elevator with?”
I’m taking it that they don’t mean just forced the share a lift for ten or twelve excruciating floors, where you stare at a point directly ahead, do not acknowledge the other person in any way and then for some reason say “goodbye” if they get off at a floor before yours.
I’m taking it to mean that you are trapped together in a lift that is sitting lifeless for at least four hours, and the simple answer of course is “anybody”, since being stuck in the elevator is actually a larger problem than the fact that you’re not wild about the person trapped in there with you.
But there are degrees of unpleasantness, and it is obviously preferable to be stuck in a lift with Keira Knightley than with Fred the Flasher from Falkirk (oddly, the word “Keira” is the only one that Spellcheck has a problem with in that sentence). Here. therefore, is a list of people I’d prefer not to be stuck in a lift with:
- A dead body.
- A dead body and a murder weapon, with my fingerprints on it.
- Anyone who starts humming along to the elevator music.
- Anyone who has ever written elevator music.
- Anyone I’ve ever got off with. Ever. Just too embarrassing.
- Anyone who pushes the button at a pedestrian crossing and then pushes it again thirty seconds later. Imagine what he’d be like in a lift with buttons for 32 floors, a mezzanine and a basement. He’d even push the button that says “Close Door”.
- Though I would find it funny every half an hour or so to suggest that they might work this time if he tried them all again.
- Someone who suddenly announces “I hope they hurry up, I’m dying for a poo”.
- The kind of guy who says “I can fix this”, takes a screwdriver to the button panel and manages to blow out the overhead light.
- Anyone who sobs, cries “we’re doomed”, falls to their knees in prayer or starts beating repeatedly upon the door with their fists, all of which are my job.
- Anyone who says that they have an app on their iPhone for working out how much air we have left.
- Anyone who reckons we can get out through the roof and climb up the liftshaft, and offers to give me a bunk up because I’m the smallest.
- Anyone who suggests a game of I Spy, whether they mean it as a joke or not.
- A kid with a pogo stick.
- Someone who looks around and says “well, it’s bigger than my cell used to be.”
- A sumo wrestler, just on his way to his dressing room after a fight.
- Someone with a bag of chips, who eats them all and doesn’t offer me one (see options 1 and 2 above, I’d never be convicted).
- The Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They’re very good, but they’d sing to pass the time, the lift would be very small and it would take two weeks to get the ringing out of my ears.
Half way through the above, though, I realised the real answer. The person I’d least like to be stuck in a lift with is me. Can you imagine being stuck on your own, with your own thoughts, not knowing how long you were going to be there?
Suddenly any of the above seem welcome liftmates, well, except for the obvious one.
You wouldn’t want the I Spy guy.